We were quiet in the trap on the way back to town. I imagined Frank was thinking about Silverheels, and about love that endured all. Willie was probably thinking about going fishing. I was thinking about my first good clue, and how I might use it to convince Josie my version of the story was right. I had to find out more about Buck Wilson and who in Park County remembered him, and I was delighted to have found both an ally and an alibi in Frank. After all, he wanted to know the truth about Silverheels as much as I did. I could enlist his help investigating her and no one would suspect I had a wager with Josie. And I liked Frank, even if he wasn’t as handsome or charming as George. Searching for Silverheels with Frank would be fun.
As we arrived back in town, Willie said he wanted to stop in at the mercantile, so we dropped him off. Normally I would have gone into the store too, in case George was there, but I had an idea of how Frank might help me, so I went on alone with him.
“Would you like to come by the café tonight and talk to the old-timers?” I suggested. “They can remember back to the mining boom days. They might be able to tell us more about Buck Wilson and who tends his grave.”
“Do you think any of them remember Silverheels herself?” Frank asked, his voice eager.
“I asked this morning. They didn’t think anyone was still around from back then, but someone must be. Otherwise, who would have tended that grave?” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the paper on which I’d written down the names from the grave markers. “Maybe if we show them this list they will recognize the family name of someone still around.”
“Okay, I’ll come by after supper. Maybe you could save me a piece of your mother’s pie.”
“Sure. Mother makes the best pie in town,” I said.
Frank pulled the horse to a stop at the hitching rail in front of the hotel and we climbed down. I was brushing the dust out of my skirt when Imogene came bursting out of the hotel.
“Hello, Pearl. Hello, Mr. Frank. Did you have a nice buggy ride in the park?”
Frank smiled back. “It was a very pleasant day,” he said politely.
Imogene gave him a little curtsy, then linked her arm through mine and began walking me toward the café. When we were just a few steps from Frank she started talking again, her voice lowered.
“George came by the café looking for you earlier today. I thought he might be coming by to ask you to the picnic, so I didn’t tell him you’d gone off on a buggy ride with another boy. You should be extra sweet to George next time you see him. You don’t want to miss your chance because of Frank, do you? He’s just going to forget you the minute he gets on the train, you know.”
I pulled my arm out of hers. “Imogene, we dropped Willie off at the mercantile. I bet you could catch him walking back to the café if you hurry,” I said.
Imogene’s face lit with a smile so big I thought her teeth might fall out. “Thanks, Pearl!” She hurried off up the street to pester Willie with her feminine charms and left me to continue on into the café. She was my best friend, and I knew she was right—I didn’t want to give George Crawford the wrong impression. But I had to keep working with Frank to gather information about Silverheels. I’d rather George had the wrong idea about me and Frank than know the truth about me and Josie. After all, as Imogene had said, Frank would be gone in a few days. Surely George wouldn’t think I was doing anything improper. I spent time with tourists every summer, and Willie had accompanied us the whole way.
When Frank arrived in the café later that evening, I took him to the old-timers’ table and introduced him all around. “Frank would like to know more about Silverheels and the mining days, and I told him you all remember a few things.”
“That we do, lad. A few things,” Orv said, sliding back an empty chair and inviting Frank to sit down. As soon as he did, they all launched into stories of the glory days, when gold and silver flowed out of Park County like water, and everyone dreamed of getting rich. As they talked, the nuggets seemed to get bigger and the saloon girls prettier. Frank listened eagerly to everything. Either he was truly interested or a very good sport.
“What about Silverheels? Did anybody stay around who knew her?” Frank prompted after hearing several of their personal stories.
“Most all of the fifty-niners were gone a long time ago,” Russell said.
“But there must still be someone around who knows people buried in that cemetery. Relatives, or old friends? Pearl and I made a list.” Frank retrieved the list from me and started running his finger down it, reading out names:
“John Gordon
Theodore Birchum
Elijah Weldon
Zachariah Stuart
Edwin Carlisle . . .”
Russell snapped his fingers. “Carlisle. That’s Mae Nelson’s family name. Her father and one uncle are buried up there. She moved down to Fairplay when everything closed down in Buckskin Joe. She’d be the one to talk to.”
“That’s right,” Orv said. “She’s one of the ones who saw the Veiled Lady in the cemetery.”
A prickle of goose bumps broke out along my arms. “And she’s in Fairplay?” I asked.
“Is that far?” Frank asked.
I shook my head. “We could go in the afternoon tomorrow.”
“Does she still go to the cemetery to tend the graves?” Frank asked.
“Don’t rightly know,” said Orv. “Old Mrs. Carlisle, her mother, moved on down to Denver a few years back. Couldn’t take the mountain winters in her old bones anymore.”
“Why?” asked Harry. “Have the graves been tended lately?”
“Maybe it was the Veiled Lady, come back tending the grave of her lost lover,” said Orv, mischief in his eyes.
“Well if it was, she’d be in the back part of the plot. That’s where the smallpox graves are,” Russell said.
“There was one fella back there she was supposed to have been sweet on, right?” Harry said.
“Buck Wilson,” said Orv. “I remembered after you asked this morning. Some folks say they were engaged to be married, but he was one of the first to die from the pox.”
Frank looked at me, his eyebrows raised. “Did you know that?” he asked.
I shook my head. I had heard versions of the story in which she had been in love or engaged to various miners, but if I had ever heard the names of the men, I’d forgotten. Tourists only needed enough to get interested in a tour.
“Where did you hear that?” I asked Orv.
He shrugged. “Don’t rightly recall, but that’s what I’ve heard. Why so interested? Did you see the Veiled Lady?”
“No,” Frank said, “but someone has cleaned Buck Wilson’s grave recently. We saw it when we were there today.”
The old-timers all stopped talking or eating and stared at Frank.
“Buck Wilson? Really?” Russell said.
“Do you know who around here might have known him?” I asked.
“I don’t rightly know,” Russell said. His brow wrinkled and he looked like he was thinking hard, but he didn’t say anything more.
“Well, I’ll be,” said Harry into the silence that followed. “Maybe the Veiled Lady’s been to the cemetery, tending her beloved.”
“You ought to talk to Mae Nelson. She can tell you if it was the Veiled Lady or not. She’s seen her,” Orv said.
“Who knows,” Harry continued. “You two may be the ones to find Silverheels at last, after all these years.”
The goose bumps I had felt rising on my arms spread with a little shiver all over my body. It looked like we had a new mission for tomorrow.