Two Sisters and the Christmas Groom (

by Zina Abbott

  “I do! I’m wanting her to end up with you so we can be living close to each other. Then again, I can’t be asking it of her if I’m finding out you’re likely to be spending your time in the pub instead of at home. I’ll not be doing that to her, even if it will be breaking my heart if the two of you end up not choosing each other.” She glanced over at the man next to her and watched Michael shrug, as if at a loss.

  “First of all, Miss Flanagan, out here, they call them saloons. If you say pub, everyone will think you’re talking about Ireland.”

  Her lips quivering, and her face scrunched up as she fought back bursting into tears, Annie turned away from his penetrating gaze and, in a whisper, forced her words out. “You can be calling them what you will, she’s afraid of you turning out like our da. She’s afraid you’ll be fine now, only going to the pub—saloon—on paydays, but otherwise, coming home to her until the whiskey starts taking over your life. She’s afraid she’ll be ending up like Ma, a house full of children with no money coming in and a husband not coming home unless he’s expecting her to put food in front of him—food she’s not having because there’s no credit left to be buying more. She…in her last letter, Kate was asking me to find out if you’re one to be spending your free time at the pub—the…the saloon. She’s wanting to know, so in case, if you’re deciding to be sending for her, she’ll be knowing if she’s willing to come.” Annie glanced Michael’s direction long enough to see him shake his head, a look of disgust on his face.

  “It seems to me, if your sister wanted to know whether or not I like to spend my time drinking, she should ask me.”

  “And would you be telling her the truth? You wouldn’t be the first man saying what a woman’s wanting to hear in order to be getting his way with her.” Annie felt a wave of relief when, after several seconds, Michael responded with a softer tone of voice.

  “It sounds like your family has had a hard life, and some of the men you’ve been forced to deal with have not treated you well. I do hope you are willing to try to convince your sister I intend to do right by her.”

  Deciding she had already said enough, Annie once again placed her hand in the crook of Michael’s arm and they continued to walk in silence. The two reached the corner by DeMitri’s Bakery across the street from where Annie lived. Even with his words of understanding, it took all of Annie’s courage to face Michael as she bid him farewell. “Howard Boarding House is where I’m staying, since Mrs. Nighy is still living above the furniture store with no extra bedroom for me. I’ll be bidding you farewell, Michael O’Hare, and thanking you for listening to me carrying on so. Mrs. Howard says she’s putting out a buffet lunch on Sundays. I need to be getting inside or the others will be leaving me nothing but crumbs.”

  Michael stopped and glanced at the boarding house across the street before he returned his gaze to Annie’s. “In spite of you tearing my hide off me with your words, I’ve enjoyed our time together, Miss Flanagan. Does the boarding house provide supper?”

  Annie shook her head. “Only during the week and Saturdays. I’ve been saving a roll and apple in my room for later.”

  “Will you allow me to call on you for a meal later? The Corner Saloon makes a fairly decent sandwich…”

  Annie stiffened her back and raised her chin. “I’m a decent woman, Michael O’Hare. I’ll not be eating in a saloon.”

  Michael laughed and reached over to pat the back of her hand, still resting on his arm. “Relax, Miss Flanagan. I don’t expect you to. I thought I could buy the sandwiches and pick you up at the boarding house about four o’clock. You see those benches in front of the mercantile? We can sit over there to eat them. We’ll be out in the open so everything is proper. I’d like you to tell me more about Kate.”

  Annie hesitated. Would it be proper, or might it raise questions about why she spent time with Michael O’Hare? He wanted to know more about her sister. She wanted to know more about him. Unwilling to look closely at her motives for wishing to know him better, she agreed. “I think I’d be liking that, Mr. O’Hare. It should still be warm enough we’ll be having time for a sandwich and some talk before the sun is setting for the day. I’ll be bringing something to drink with our sandwiches. And, if I can be counting on you to be attending mass next month, I’ll be asking Mrs. Howard if I can be using her kitchen for fixing us a proper Sunday meal that day.” Annie bit the side of her lip as she watched Michael shake his head. Was he refusing her offer? When he focused his gaze on her face, his eyes filled with laughter, she knew he held no malice toward her.

  “You are bound and determined to get me to attend mass, aren’t you, Miss Flanagan? Tell you what—I’ll give my word that I will skip my morning sleep the next Sunday the priest is due up here, and I will do everything in my power to attend mass. Afterward, I will happily accept your offer of a meal you’ve prepared. The cook for the mine boarding house does a fair job, but I would love to enjoy a good Sunday supper sharing a table with you instead of a bunch of loud-mouth, rude men.”

  “Then, I’ll be counting on it, Michael O’Hare. Sure, it is, Kate will be happy to know you’ll be going to mass next month. I’ll be wishing you a good afternoon, now, and looking forward to you coming by later.”

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  Chapter 7

  ~o0o~

  M ichael stood in front of the bakery and watched Annie Flanagan practically run across the street to the front door of her boarding house. It had been his intention to escort her to the door, but she slipped away from him so quickly, he did not have a chance. He shook his head as he watched the back of her dark brown wool cape with matching bonnet disappear inside.

  Deciding to check on his bunkmate he had dropped off at the doctor’s office, Michael turned to walk back the way they had come. Hopefully, if the doctor decided to send Jeff home to the bunkhouse, someone else would be willing to keep an eye on him so Michael could enjoy his dinner appointment with Annie Flanagan.

  Michael shook his head as he thought over his conversation with Annie. His first impression was, it would be much easier to pursue a courtship by mail with Kate Flanagan if he did not have to deal with her sister in person at the same time. From what he read in Kate’s letters, he thought he was making good progress toward convincing her to come to Colorado to marry him.

  Michael’s steps slowed as another thought popped into his mind. If what Annie said was true—that Kate had reservations about him because he was Irish, and she feared he might turn out like her father—Kate might reject Michael’s offer of marriage without giving him a reason. Without Annie there, Michael would never know what he was up against so he could assure his prospective bride he had no intention of going down the path followed by a large number of men, Irish or otherwise. Michael knew so many Irish started out as hard-working, ambitious men. However, after decades of constantly running headlong into brick walls of prejudice and poor employment opportunities with no way to get ahead, life wore them down. Many of them drowned their disappointments in liquor.

  Michael had decided years before what he wanted in life, and he realized he could not spend his money at the bar or the gaming tables if he ever hoped to achieve his goals. He desired to have a family—one that would stay by his side and support him. If Kate was to be the one with whom he would build a family, he first needed to convince her he was not headed in the same direction as her father.

  Michael gritted his teeth and shook his head as he again reflected on the way Annie Flanagan had torn into him for not attending mass and all but accused him of being a drunkard who slept with whores. She did not hold a monopoly on possessing an Irish temper. It had taken a great deal of effort on Michael’s part to fall back on the manners his mother had taught him and resist the temptation to yell at her.

  Fear, he realized. Fear drove Annie’s temper to flare and say what she did. Fear for her sister—fear Kate would decide against him and not move to Jubilee Springs so Annie could have her s
ibling living close by.

  Annie was the key, Michael decided. If he wanted to overcome Kate’s fears regarding him possibly turning out like their father, he first had to overcome Annie’s concerns. Fortunately, he had possessed the presence of mind to invite her to join him for an evening meal. Perhaps, by then, both their emotions would have cooled, and he would be able to calmly assure her he was a good husband prospect for her sister.

  Michael’s steps slowed as another thought entered his mind. He shoved it aside. He could not afford to entertain that possibility. Still, the question niggled at him. Did he ask Annie to share sandwiches and conversation with him so he could learn more about her sister, Kate? Or, did he ask her because he wished to spend more time with her?

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  Chapter 8

  ~o0o~

  Jubilee Springs, Colorado ~ November 13, 1881

  A nnie watched Michael step through the opening of the back entry of Mr. Nighy’s furniture workshop and warehouse. She waited for his eyes to adjust to the lower light level before she stepped forward to let him know where she was.

  She smiled as he looked off to the right and studied several finished furniture pieces organized by type and design. That had been Delly’s doing. Delly confessed that, although she had agreed to leave her husband’s warehouse alone, she had convinced him that, in addition to the raw lumber he already kept sorted, he needed to keep his finished inventory organized by sets and wood types. Proud Annie was to be working for a woman who had chosen a man with so much talent.

  Annie patiently waited as Michael canted his head and studied Mr. Nighy’s current work project sitting on blocks and sawhorses in the center of the building. It appeared just as Mr. Nighy had left it the afternoon before, except Annie, knowing Michael would be joining her for a Sunday meal, had come down afterwards and swept up the sawdust. When the weather allowed, Mr. Nighy used the area just inside the door where the light was bright through the double doors that opened by sliding on runners. With the snow that fell overnight, the dark clouds hovering above, and the wind howling its threat to bring in another storm before the day ended, this day would not be one of the times the doors would remain open.

  Annie walked toward the door. A smile spread on her lips as she witnessed a pleased expression light Michael’s face as he turned her direction. “This way, Mr. O’Hare. Considering the weather, I decided on setting the table under the window over by the woodstove. You’ll be finding it more comfortable over here.” Annie reached for the heavy coat Michael shrugged off his shoulders as he walked over to join her. In spite of the cold draft that blew along the warehouse floor, the area between the wood stove and side wall lined with furniture felt cozy and warm in comparison to the outside. Even though Annie knew the furniture store was located almost on the opposite end of town from the single miners’ boarding house, she realized Michael had not walked as far to join her as she had been forced to walk every day from the trolley stop on the edge of the Irish sector closest to home. She watched as he lifted his nose and sniffed.

  “Smells wonderful, Miss Flanagan. Our cook at the boarding house turns out pretty good fare, and plenty of it, but his selections are limited.”

  “Happy I am to be trying my hand at something you might like, Mr. O’Hare. I was fixing the same thing for Mr. and Mrs. Nighy, to be sparing them the walk to the River Valley Inn in such weather. Herself, knowing I was planning on having you over for supper, told me to prepare enough for both meals. It’s half a roast chicken with vegetables and gravy, starting off with a cream of potato and herb soup. There’ll be nothing fancy for dessert, as I’m still working on putting together a good pie crust. Kate did most of the baking at home—when we could afford…well, never mind that. Pleased you’ll be with our Katie’s baking skills. I did make a pound cake for after.” Annie watched as Michael, an expression of appreciation on his face, walked over to the woodstove and examined more closely the open pot of soup and the covered pan, both perched on the outer edge to stay warm without continuing to cook.

  “The soup smells promising, Miss Flanagan. Our cook at the boarding house prepares potato soup, but we’re lucky if he throws in a little onion and salt to flavor it. May I help you put it on the table?”

  Annie responded with a laugh. “It’s not me you’re courting, now is it, Mr. O’Hare? I know how it is with you hard-working men. You’ll be sitting down to the table, waiting for your supper to be set before you, and the sooner, the better.” She pointed to the chair on the far side of the table that flanked the stove. “You can be taking that chair over there while I’m serving the food.” Annie reached for one of the bowls and began to ladle it full of soup. She turned to see Michael in his chair, watching her.

  “I may not be courting you, Miss Flanagan, but I have figured out that if I wish for you to give a good report of me to your sister, I need to show you my best side. Besides, for today, anyway, it is you who has been working hard while I spent the morning relaxing. Perhaps it is you who should be sitting at the table and me to be serving you.”

  A surprised expression on her face, Annie stared at Michael as she set the bowl of soup before him. “It’s a pleasing thought, sure, but I’ll not be expecting it of you. Certain it was never working that way at our house, now was it? Whether Ma or any of us girls were working in service or not, it was our place to be serving our men.” Annie felt her face heat with a blush. She turned away and dished up the other bowl of soup, taking her time in hope the color would fade before she joined Michael for their meal. When she turned toward the table once more, she discovered Michael had risen to his feet and, a teasing expression on his face, now stood next to her chair.

  “You may feel like you need to serve me, Miss Flanagan. However, I remember my manners well enough to know I should help you to be seated.”

  A wide smile on her face, Annie set her soup at her place and allowed Michael to help her with her chair. “Thank you, Mr. O’Hare. A rare treat that was, certain. With us sitting up to the table on benches at home, there was no expecting help being seated. Now, would you be so kind as to be saying the blessing on the food?” Annie’s eyes widened as Michael shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Flanagan. I’m not used to there being a prayer said before meals. It’s been so long since I’ve heard grace over my food, I’m not sure I know how.”

  Her voice soft, Annie bowed her head. “I’ll be saying it this time, Mr. O’Hare, but you need to be learning to say a blessing yourself. Kate will be expecting it.” Annie dipped her head even farther as the thought crossed her mind that Kate probably would not be as particular about asking a blessing over the food as Annie and their mother were. However, Michael did not need to know that. She spoke the prayer and lifted her head with a smile, signaling it was time to eat.

  After Michael had expressed how well he liked her cream of potato soup, Annie kept quiet and allowed him to eat. Next, she arose to dish up the main course. “And, would you be preferring white meat or dark, Mr. O’Hare?”

  “I like either one. You choose what you want first.”

  Flummoxed, Annie hesitated. She was not used to having such a choice. “If you’re truly not partial, then I’ll be taking the wing and leg, and be giving you the rest.” At the sound of his chuckle, she raised an eyebrow and turned to stare at Michael.

  “You don’t need to offer me the two largest pieces, Miss Flanagan. I’ll happily split it down the middle with you.”

  “Oh, but pleased I’ll be having both the wing and drumstick, unless you’re partial to one or the other. At home, if ever we were fortunate to be serving a whole chicken, lucky I was to be getting a wing. Da got half the breast, as did my brother, Patrick. If a boarder was living with us, between him and Patrick, they were getting either the breast piece or a thigh. We saw to it our Danny was getting the drumstick, and the younger girls took turns on the other dark meat. The wings were for Kate and me. Ma was always taking the
back, claiming it was her favorite part of the chicken. With the back not having much meat, it was years before I was understanding why Ma insisted on having that piece.” Annie shrugged and smiled in resignation. “It’s the way of large families, now isn’t it? Would you like me to be cutting your meat off the bones, Mr. O’Hare?”

  “Cut the meat off the bones?” Michael’s forehead wrinkled, and he shook his head. “I guess that’s the polite way to eat chicken. I’ve always picked it up with my fingers to eat it.”

  “Oh, sure! I’ll be bringing it to you on the bone, then.” She smiled self-consciously. “Ma wasn’t one to be wasting a whole chicken on only one meal, now was she? She’d be expecting us to cut off our meat so she could be adding the bones to the neck and organ meat she’d been saving for boiling up a chicken stock. There’s no need in me doing that for Mrs. Nighy. She’ll be wanting me to get a new chicken to cook up when I’m making her chicken soup.” A wave of relief flowed over Annie once she realized Michael studied her with an expression of appreciation rather than criticism.

  “It sounds like you and your sister have learned to live frugally. That’s a good trait, especially if my plans don’t work out as well, or as quickly, as I hope. But, I’m serious, Miss Flanagan. You are welcome to a larger portion of chicken.”

  Annie shook her head as she cut off the drumstick and the wing, and placed the rest of the half-chicken on a plate. She surrounded it with the carrots, potatoes, and onions she had baked with it, then drizzled a chicken gravy over the vegetables before she set it in front of Michael. “It’ll be more than I’m used to, and lucky I’ll be to eat it all. I’m hoping you’ll like it, although I can’t be claiming credit for the bread. Mrs. Nighy has me buying from the bakery. She’s one to be supporting other stores in town rather than saving money—something about it being good for business.”