Free The Mountain Between Us by Cindy Myers Page B

place by black adhesive triangles at the corners. She turned the album around to face Olivia and opened to a page with a picture of a stern-faced man with slick-backed hair and a curling moustache. “This is my great-grandfather, Festus Wynock. He founded the town of Eureka. Everything it is today is because of him.”
    Olivia peered at the photograph. Old Festus looked like he’d eaten a sour pickle. She pointed to a photo on the opposite page of an equally stern and imposing woman. “Who’s this?”
    â€œThat’s my great-grandmother Emmaline. The dowry she brought from her family paid for all the property my grandfather bought. At one time he owned most of the land in the area.”
    That much land would be worth a lot of money these days. Olivia had been around people who had money—Cassie didn’t look like them. “Why doesn’t your family own all that land now?”
    â€œBecause he sold it.” She snapped the album shut. “I can show you these books about gold miners and Indians, but all you really need to know is that my great-grandfather put Eureka on the map. If anyone should go on your mural, it’s him.”
    â€œI’d still like to look at the books Lucas recommended,” she said. “I have a few ideas of my own for the mural.”
    Cassie scowled at her, her eyes beady, like a wary rodent. Olivia couldn’t have guessed the woman’s age; her face was almost unlined, but she had the attitude of an elderly schoolteacher, prim and unbending. “I hope you’re not one of those modern artists who is going to paint a lot of deformed people in weird colors and make us look bad.”
    Olivia choked off a laugh. Deformed people? Really? “Danielle and Janelle have final say on what the mural looks like,” she said.
    â€œOh, well . . . those two.” Cassie waved her hand dismissively. “There’s no telling what they’d think was appropriate.”
    Olivia started to say that being lesbian didn’t exclude a woman from having good taste but decided Cassie wouldn’t get it. “I don’t have any intention of painting deformed people in weird colors,” she said. Though if she painted Cassie Wynock, she’d be tempted to render her as a shriveled old witch with snakes for hair. The image amused her.
    â€œWhat are you smiling about?”
    â€œNothing. Do you have a picture of Jake Murphy? I’m thinking about putting him in the mural.”
    The librarian’s transformation was remarkable to behold. Her face paled, then turned a deep red, almost purple. She rose from her chair, and when she finally spoke, her voice shook with rage. “Jacob Murphy was a terrible person who doesn’t deserve to be immortalized in any way, shape, or fashion. If you intend to put him on your mural, you’ll get no help from me.”
    Whoever this Jacob Murphy was, he’d obviously done something to piss off the librarian. Olivia was beginning to like him more all the time. She stood also. “Maybe I’ll come back some other day for those books,” she said, and backed out of the room.
    In the meantime, she had another idea for a person to include on her mural—not Cassie Wynock’s sainted great-grandfather, but her great-grandmother, the woman who had put up with the old reprobate. If he was half as pompous as his great-granddaughter, his wife deserved a medal.
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    â€œI call this meeting of the Eureka Town Council to order.” Lucille banged her official mayor’s gavel on the front counter of the Last Dollar, aiming for the wooden striker that had come with the hammer, but missing and hitting the side of the cash register instead, setting up an alarming jangling. She winced, but soldiered on. “All council members are present and accounted for.”
    She nodded to the large front table where council members Doug Rayburn, Katya Paxton, Junior Dominick, and Paul