Boston, Massachusetts March 1855
A cold winter afternoon, in a sparsely furnished room in
Boston's South End, twenty-two-year-old Kate VanNam read
to her elderly, hard-of-hearing uncle. Nelson VanNam was a
gentle, caring, life-long bachelor, who had raised Kate
and her older brother, Gregory, after their parents had
perished in a fire at sea a dozen years earlier.
For a short time, he had been a successful and prosperous
businessman who had provided well for his niece and
nephew. But in 1849, an unexpected reversal of fortune had
changed all that. The once prominent VanNams had fallen on
hard times. The grand Chestnut Street mansion in Beacon
Hill had been lost, along with the VanNam fortune.
When the fortune disappeared, so did Gregory VanNam. The
senior VanNam was now in failing health and eternally
grateful to his sweet-natured niece for selflessly tending
him.
On this bitter January day, the two sat as close to the
fire in the grate as was safe, blankets draped over their
knees. As Kate read to her uncle — shouted, actually — she
heard a loud knock on the door.
Kate lowered her well-worn copy of the Dickens novel
Oliver Twist, and gave her uncle a questioning look. He
shrugged his thin shoulders. Kate laid the book aside.
"I'll see who it is. Stay right where you are," she said
to her uncle.
Nelson nodded.
Kate opened the door. A uniformed messenger stood
shivering on the steps. He handed her a sealed envelope on
which only her name was written in neat script. She
started to speak, but the youth who delivered the message
had already turned and left.
Puzzled, Kate closed the door and returned to the fire and
her uncle. She held out the envelope to him.
Squinting, he read what was written. "It's addressed to
you, my dear. Open it."
Kate tore open the end of the sealed envelope and slipped
out the folded velum paper. After reading the brief
message quickly, she explained to her uncle that it was a
summons for her to come to the law offices of J. J.
Clement, the attorney who, like his father before him, had
always represented the VanNam family.
"Why on earth would Clement want to see me?" Kate mused
aloud, as she handed the message to her uncle.
"I have no idea, child," he stated, reading the
missive. "But I'm sure it can wait. No need for you to..."
He stopped speaking, shook his white head and began to
smile. The curious Kate was already reaching for her heavy
woolen cape hanging on the coat tree beside the front door.
Swirling it around her slender shoulders, she said, "It's
time for your afternoon nap, Uncle Nelson. While you rest
I'll walk to the law offices and see what this is all
about." She smiled at him as she buttoned the cape beneath
her chin and drew the hood up over her gleaming golden
hair. "I will be back within the hour, the mystery solved."
Nelson VanNam knew it would do no good to argue that it
was far too cold for Kate to be walking to the attorney's
office. His pretty niece, while as kind and caring as a
ministering angel, was also a decisive, strong-willed
young woman who discharged duties and met challenges with
an immediacy that was admirable, if at times somewhat
annoying.
The old man smiled fondly as Kate waved goodbye and
stepped out into the cold. He sighed, folded his hands in
his blanketed lap and gazed into the fire, recalling the
first night the ten-year-old Kate had spent in his home.
"No, Uncle Nelson." She had set him straight when he'd
offered to leave her door ajar at bedtime.
"Please close it. I do not fear the dark, sir."
Nelson VanNam was warmed by the memory. He had learned in
the years since that the dauntless Kate was not afraid of
much.
His smile abruptly fled. He was afraid for her. What, he
wondered worriedly, would become of his dear sweet Kate
once he was gone?
Teeth chattering, shoulders hunched, Kate briskly walked
the eight blocks to the law offices of J. J. Clement.
Hurrying across the narrow cobblestone street, she dashed
up the steps of the two-story red-brick building and
entered the wide central corridor.
Sweeping the hood off her head and smoothing her hair, she
knocked politely before entering the attorney's private
chambers. A warming fire blazed in a large hearth.
"Why, there you are already, Miss VanNam," said
J. J. Clement, rising from his chair. "I had no idea you'd
come in this afternoon. Please, have a seat." He gestured
to one of two straight-backed chairs pulled up before his
desk.
Kate frowned as she sat down. "Your message summoned me,
Mr. Clement, did it not?"
The attorney smiled. "So it did. Your prompt response is
admirable, but I hope you didn't freeze on your long
walk." He sat back down across from her. "It was
thoughtless of me to have you come in. I should have paid
you a visit at your —"
"Never mind that." Kate waved her hand. "What's this all
about?"
The attorney smiled at the impatient young woman. He
leaned toward his desk, picked up a legal document and
informed Kate, "My dear, I believe I've a bit of good
news."
"You do?" She shrugged out of her heavy cape. Unlike the
drafty rooms of home, this handsomely appointed office was
comfortably warm. "For me?"
"Indeed. The firm has been informed that Mrs. Arielle
VanNam Colfax — Nelson's aged aunt and therefore your
great-aunt — has passed away in San Francisco. She has
left all that was hers to you."
Stunned, Kate said, "Why? I didn't know her. Never
corresponded. I never even met her, so why...?"
"The elderly widow had no children. With the exception of
Nelson, you are her next of kin. You and your brother,
Gregory. However, Arielle made no provision for Gregory.
Now, to tell the truth, I don't know if you've inherited
anything of real value. The old lady was quite secretive."
The attorney shrugged.
Kate nodded. "However —" he shoved a printed handbill
across the polished desk " — as you probably know, a great
deal of gold has been brought out of the Sierra Nevadas of
California in the last five years."
"Yes, I've heard about the gold rush. Who hasn't?"
J. J. Clement said, "You have fallen heir to a house of
sorts. I understand it has not been lived in for the past
five years. And there is a claim to a California gold mine
that may or may not be worthless." He handed Kate a map
indicating the mine's location.
"The house? It's in the mountains of California?"
"Yes, the house and the mine are both high up in the
Sierra Nevadas in a mining camp called Fortune," said the
attorney. "I've no idea what Fortune, California, is like,
but I would imagine it's one of those primitive tent
cities populated by hardscrabble miners hoping to strike
it rich." He shook his head.
"But if my great-aunt built a house there, then surely —"
Interrupting, he said, "As I told you, Kate, it has been
abandoned for years. Obviously, your great-aunt deserted
the house and the camp for a good reason."
"I suppose so," Kate grudgingly conceded.
"Child," said the kindly attorney, "I'm aware of your
financial woes. Your uncle has been a friend as well as a
client for many years. I'd like to be of help."
Lips parted, Kate stared at him. "That's very kind, Mr.
Clement."
"Tell you what, I'll have our California agent, Harry
Conlin, take the claim and the property off your hands
and —" "No," she interrupted. "It is not for sale. I'll
just hold on to it for the time being."
She rose to leave, fastening her cape under her chin. J.
J. Clement came to his feet.
Kate said, "When I lose my dear uncle Nelson, there'll be
nothing holding me here. Who knows?" She picked up the
printed handbill. "I might just headWest."