The Mountains Between Us: An utterly heart-wrenching love story of the California Gold Rush by Imogen Martin

Author:Imogen Martin [Martin, Imogen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Storm Publishing
Published: 2025-02-18T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SEVEN

Grace welcomed the inaugural guests at the Randolph-Hollingswood Hotel—though it was simply a pair of tents at this time—Mr. Pringe from Georgia and Mr. Williams from Australia. She and Lillian had had a whispered discussion about whether they should accommodate Mr. Williams: many of the Australians who arrived at the Golden Gate were ex-convicts. Or had been convicts in previous generations. But Mr. Williams spoke well, and looked tidy enough. They decided they should put their prejudices to one side—at least for tonight, and see whether the sheets had disappeared in the morning.

The sheets were another thing Grace pondered. Most guesthouses didn’t provide bed linen—not surprising, given how many men arrived with lice and ticks after months on a ship rounding Cape Horn, or days battling through the swamps of Panama. Grace and Lillian decided to start as they meant to continue: their hotel would be salubrious, run with care. They would provide linen and charge accordingly.

Cora and her sister, Marguerite, sauntered over to the little encampment to see how things were going.

“You are not thinking of providing competition, I hope,” said Marguerite, putting her nose to a pan of soup and sniffing. Their saloon was already nearing completion. Marguerite was a little taller than her sister and just as blond. Grace found the two women together a little intimidating.

“I think it’s more likely we will benefit from each other,” said Grace, hastily. “We don’t plan to have a bar in our hotel, just a dining room.”

Cora tapped Grace’s arm and the dimples appeared on her cheeks. “My sister is teasing you. We are delighted that another business will be run by women. Lillian told us all about it.”

Grace cleared a couple of seats for the ladies, sweeping them of dust with her hand to protect their smart dresses. Lillian and Grace perched on a barrel and a crate. Cora took a cigar out of her reticule and lit it with a thin piece of wood she had poked into the fire. Grace stared at her.

“A habit I picked up from some Spanish ladies,” she said. “They smoke cigars all the long day. Would you like one? They are very calming.”

Grace put up a hand to refuse, thinking how different these French ladies were to other women she had met.

“Bien,” Cora said, breathing out a mouthful of smoke. “How long do you think it will take before you can build your hotel?”

Grace glanced at Lillian and slumped her shoulders. “We will have to wait until we’ve made enough capital from our other ventures.”

“And add it to the gold you already have,” said Cora.

Grace flashed a frown at Lillian. She didn’t want more people knowing.

If Cora noticed, she was too polite to show it. “But if you had your hotel, you could be making so much more money. Enough to build each of you a fine house. Perhaps up on Goat Hill.”

Grace had daydreamed of something along those lines. Some elegant villas were already being built on higher ground. Maybe, one day.

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