She closed her medical bag and moved toward the door. “I’m flattered he chose me to ask. But it’s agreed that you won’t tell him I was here?”
Reed frowned, his ugly face moving into deep round furrows. “I’ve agreed, but I don’t like it.”
“As you’ve agreed to help Lee with whatever he does that brings him home with bullet wounds?”
“Lee was shot?” Reed gasped.
“A few inches to the left and the bullet would have pierced his heart.”
“I didn’t know. He didn’t tell—.”
“It seems that he doesn’t tell anyone much about himself. Where does he go that makes him come home bloody?”
Reed looked at his daughter-in-law, saw the fire burning in her eyes, and knew he couldn’t tell her about Lee’s trips into the mines. Not only did he owe respect to his son’s wishes, but he didn’t trust Blair’s save-the-world personality. It was just like her to do something foolish—maybe as foolish as what Lee was doing. “I can’t tell you,” he said at last.
Blair merely nodded and left the room. Outside, a saddled horse was waiting for her, and she rode hard and fast to reach the south fork of the Tijeras River where she was to meet Nina.
Nina looked up at Blair, then at the horse, both sweaty, both panting. “My brother caused you to run like this?”
Blair dismounted. “He is the most infuriating, close-mouthed, secretive, impossible man alive.”
“I agree, but what’s he done specifically?”
Blair began to unsaddle her horse to let the poor animal rest. “Did you know that your father calls him, day or night, wherever he is, then Lee disappears for hours and refuses to tell anyone where he’s gone? Two days ago, he came home with two bullet wounds in his side and Pinkertons chasing him all the way to the front door. They were the ones who shot at him. What is he doing?” she yelled, as she dropped the saddle to the ground.
Nina’s eyes were wide. “I have no idea. Has this been going on for long?”
“I don’t know. I’m considered too stupid to know. I’m just allowed to sew up his wounds, not to question where he got them. Oh, Nina, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just stand by and watch him leave and not know if he’ll ever come back.”
“Pinkertons shot at him? Then what he’s doing must be…”
“Illegal?” Blair asked. “At least, on the far side of the law. And you know something, part of me doesn’t even care. All I want is his safety. I’m not sure it’d matter to me if he were robbing banks in his spare time.”
“Robbing—?” Nina sat down on a rock. “Blair, I really have no idea what he’s doing. Dad and Lee always protected me from any unpleasantness. And Mother and I always protected them from what unpleasantness we saw. Maybe Mother and I were too involved in what we were secretly doing to think that our men had any secrets.”
With a sigh, Blair sat down by her sister-in-law. “Lee found out about my taking the pamphlets into the mine.”
“I’m glad to see your head’s still on your shoulders. First time you’d seen his temper?”
“And the last, I hope. I tried to tell him that I was just as upset by his disappearances as he was by mine, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”
“He has a head made of marble,” Nina said resignedly. “Now, what are we going to do? No one else has access to the mines, and if Lee found out so easily, I’d be afraid to send the pamphlets with Houston or the other wagon drivers.”
“Yesterday, I had time to think, and something Houston said gave me an idea. She said she’d always wanted to write for a ladies’ magazine. What if we started a magazine and, out of a sense of charity, we gave copies to the ladies of the coal mines? We could submit preview copies to the mining board for approval, and I’m sure they’d let us distribute it, since it’d be full of utterly innocuous articles.”
“On the latest hair styles?” Nina asked, eyes beginning to light up.
“Our most militant plea will be to stop the South American slaughter of hummingbirds for feathers on ladies’ hats.”
“And not one word about organizing a union?”
“Not one word anyone can see.”
Nina smiled. “I think I’m going to like your explanation. Oh, Alan, please finish school so we can come home. How will we include our information?”
“Code. I read of a code used during the American Revolution. It was a series of numbers and letters that referred to a specific page in a specific book. The numbers referred to letters and, with a little counting, you could figure out the message. I would imagine that every house has a Bible.”
Nina stood, her hands clenched in excitement. “We could put a psalm reference in the first page of the magazine and then…How do we disguise the numbers? Won’t the mining committee be suspicious of a page of numbers in a ladies’ magazine? After all, we ladies don’t understand mathematics.”