Page 70 of The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Historicals 1)

“She is called Jun,” Li said.

“Jun, we’re friends of Samuel Cole’s.” I waited for Li to translate.

She listened to Li, then said something in Chinese to him.

“She says Samuel is our friend,” Li said.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but he was killed,” I said.

Again, Li translated. The old woman flinched and put her hand on her chest.

“She wants to know what happened to him,” Li said.

“He was shot. Murdered.”

She clutched the collar of her threadbare dress and asked Li another question.

“Was it because of his wife?” Li asked.

“We don’t know,” I said. “I learned he looked after you and wanted to see if you were doing all right out here.”

“He brought us food,” Li said, translating for his grandmother. “And now we have none.”

“We understand,” I said. “We’re here to offer our help.”

From behind me, Jasper presented the basket of food. “We brought this,” he said.

A flicker of a smile crossed Jun’s face.

“She says thank you,” Li said.

“May we come inside?” I asked.

Jun nodded and motioned for us to enter.

The interior was clean but bare, consisting of a woodstove, two rickety chairs, a crude table made from faded boards, and a stool that looked left over from an early saloon. Bedding consisted of blankets on a mat near the stove. Several pots were stored on a shelf, as well as a tin bowl and a few plates. A broom was propped up by the doorway.

A little girl of about three sat in the middle of the bedding. She watched us with a mixture of curiosity and fear. She called out to her brother, who went to sit next to her.

Jun fluttered her hands toward the chairs and spoke to us in Chinese.

“She wants you to sit,” Li said.

I caught Jasper’s eye. He clearly felt as awkward as I.

“Can you ask her to sit instead?” I asked.

“She won’t,” Li said.

So we took the chairs and Jun sat on the lone stool.

Li told us their story. His grandparents had come for the gold but like so many were too late. They’d stayed anyway, living in a shanty not far from the mining site and surviving by fishing from the river and collecting nuts and berries, as well as growing a vegetable garden.

“No one bothered us in those days,” Li translated. “All the white people had gone away.”

Jun’s husband had died just before the fire burned the town, leaving her alone with her teenage son, Quon. She and Quon moved to Denver, hoping to find work. After a few years, Quon met Ting, and they were married. As a family they decided to return to this place by the river where they had been happy.

“We met Samuel then,” Li said, continuing to translate his grandmother’s story. “He taught Quon to hunt and fish. His wife gave us seeds for our garden. Samuel brought us supplies from town.”