Li stood over the sink enjoying the midmorning sunshine while she worked the rubber stopper onto the jar of her first batch of mullein tincture. She breathed a contented sigh, feeling proud of her accomplishment. She loved working in her uncle’s apothecary. He and his wife each possessed a wealth of knowledge regarding traditional Chinese medicine, were patient teachers, and much easier to live with than her grandparents. She’d learned something new every day about indigenous plants and how they could be substituted for traditional plants from China. Her favorite pastime was foraging in the mountains, gulches, and streams. The Black Hills held an abundance of raw material, it’s worth far greater than gold, and harvesting was much safer than mining. Breathing in the mountain air wafting in the kitchen window, she felt—happy. It was pleasant living in Deadwood, more so than her former home in Seattle.
A ward of her mother’s parents, Li was nothing more than a commodity. Her grandfather began accepting suiters as early as second grade and betrothed her to a man three times her age upon completing her education. With an eight to one, male to female ratio, among Chinese Americans, thanks to the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, it was her only value. But it wasn’t her only worry. Life had become dangerous in Chinatown. There was a sharp rise in anti-Chinese sentiment, up and down the west coast. Chinese men were denied work and stripped of their businesses. Many were run out of town, or worse, murdered. Some were being shipped back to China. Even her grandfather’s cleaning business fell under scrutiny.
But fate had been kind to her the cold February day when a delegation of commissioners arrived from China. Conducting business with the empire builder, James J. Hill, the Chinese prince was interested in all things American, particularly the educational system. During his visit, he was astonished to see Chinese girls among the students attending a public school. Because he spoke neither English, nor Cantonese, she’d been selected as a translator. Enamored by her talent, the prince requested her as an interpreter during his American tour. Insulted by the proposal, grandfather had been well compensated to restore his honor.
The Pacific Coast Riots detained her return to Seattle. Too precious a commodity to be killed in a mob attack, grandfather decided to have her live with his wife’s sister until the street violence subsided. That’s what brought her to Deadwood. He wasn’t through making money off her yet. Little did he know that her birth father also resided in the community.
Her aunt had shared with her the disgraceful relationship between her parents. Among the whites, it was illegal. For her mother, failure to marry a Chinese man was an egregious dishonor, and a betrayal to her family. Secrecy had been maintained until Li’s mother died in childbirth. Because her predominant Asian features, Li easily melded into her mother’s family. Her grandfather would have rid himself of all traces of his daughter’s dishonor had it not been for her father’s money—his name never mentioned, except in venomous whispers.
Li heard the heavy foot fall climbing the backstairs. “That’s odd,” she said to the calico cat sitting in the open windowsill. “Father’s home early.” Giving a wide yawn, the calico stretched its legs then rolled over with disinterest. Li placed the glass jar on the counter next to the other tincture. She called to her uncle in the front of the store, “Shūshu, wǒ yào shàng lóule,” and headed upstairs.
Li found the woman lying on the chaise lounge quite fascinating. She was familiar with women’s western wear as well as the traditional hanfu, qipao or tang suit, to which this woman’s clothing bore no resemblance. Her uncle’s store carried the finest silks from China along with American and French made textiles. Li slid a finger beneath the cuff of the woman’s shirt and rubbed it between her fingers. The fabric was like nothing she’d ever felt. The ill-fitted pantaloons looked tight and restrictive around the arm and leg bands, yet the material was soft, stretchy, and liberating all the same. Her exposed skin was a dark tan, the flesh on her arms and legs taught and muscular, representing long hours in the sun. Clearly, she worked on a ranch or in the fields, defying the prominent Victorian code of conduct as well as dress. In short, she was mesmerizing.
Her father, Hank had retrieved a woolen blanket and a pillow from the cedar chest. He appeared quite flustered by the woman and her homely, yet provocative attire. “Did you find Calamity Jane’s long-lost daughter?” she said in jest. The corner of her father’s lips crinkled in a smile. Li sobered her tone, “Who is she father, and why have you brought her here?” Her father fussed a bit more with the pillow before he answered.
“I found her near the train wreck this morning by the Wasp number two mine.”
“How did she get there?”
“Don’t know. The crew claim she wasn’t part of the passenger manifest, and I don’t blame them. Dressed like she is, they probably thought ole Calamity Jane had rose from the grave as well.”
“What are you going to do with her father?”
“I’m going to run and fetch doc Howe. Can you watch over her, Wǒ de tián lián, until I get back?”
Li blushed. She loved that her father tried to speak Cantonese, even when his term of endearment wasn’t quite accurate.
“Of course, father. But you should know, Doctor Howe told uncle he was traveling to Lead this morning on business.”
“Then I better get a move on,” He kissed her forehead. “Make sure no one knows that she’s here. It’s our secret.” He winked and headed back down the stairs.
Li couldn’t help but smile. It amused her how her father treated her like a five-year-old while her grandfather had been ready to marry her off at the ripe age of ten. It was strange the difference in cultural perceptions. Her father had been her champion when it came to freedom of choice. It was in direct opposition to grandfather’s beliefs. More than anything, Li wanted to attend a university like her uncle’s sons had done and study pharmacology. Her uncle Wong said, she didn’t need to attend a university for that, offering to take her with him on his trip back to China where she could study Chinese medicine from the greatest scholars. She, however, didn’t want to leave America. For better or worse, it was her home, a home she was determined to keep. All she had to do now was figure out a way to make it work.