by Caryl McAdoo
“I’m so sorry, but the poet claims time heal all wounds.”
“I pray that comes sooner rather than later.” She gave her sis a smile, though the gesture lacked heart. Didn’t seem like there’d ever be enough time to get over Marcus Aurelius Ford. Using his middle name brought a bit of mirth to her soul, but also a sadness that she’d never get to use the moniker against him.
The first station the coach stopped at fascinated Michael. By the last trump, the child was so worn out from the constant swaying and bouncing, he hardly realized the trip’s end. She’d done it!
Gone to California…found her sons…and brought them home. The accomplishment served as oil for wounds.
Bonnie and Jasper to boot.
If only Marcus loved her enough….
“They’re here!”
The hollered announcement followed by his baby’s girl’s high-pitched scream broke Henry’s concentration.
Would his youngest ever stop being so dramatic? He rolled up the house plans, stowed them in their leather tube, then hurried out to the porch and joined his wife and the growing welcoming crowd.
Indigo crawled out from under the steps, shook himself real big, then took his usual spot beside Henry’s right leg. Still couldn’t decide if this one or the dog’s grandsire was the best ever.
Nice dilemma to have. All of Blue Dog’s progeny proved to be smarter than average, but the fourth generation shone bright in the hound’s descendants.
The carriage came to a stop. The door flung open, and folks poured out even before the dust settled. Bless the Lord. Two of his grown girls home.
Tears, cheers, and a few jeers from Houston and Crockett for their new brother accompanied plenty of hugs and howdys for the two new little boys.
What a shock her letter had been, but… understandable. Rebecca shouldn’t have to spend out her days alone. She’d had mothered all five of her little sisters, and two sons of her own would keep her home happy.
After greetings, he waited until the shank of the evening to invite her to join him and May in his library for a nightcap. Through half his toddy, he let the ladies, sitting across his desk from him, chat—mostly about her beloved sons.
But the point arrived that he couldn’t wait any longer. He’d seen the sadness in her eyes from the first and needed to know if someone deserved to die.
“What’s wrong, Rebecca?”
Closing her eyes, she leaned back and filled her lungs. She looked first to May then to him. “Should have known there’d be no keeping it from you, but…there’s nothing to be done, Daddy. Believe me. My heart aches, that’s for sure and certain, but time heals all wounds. Isn’t that what the poets tell us?”
That didn’t make sense. Sure, she’d experienced a whole range of emotions over Wallace’s death, but a broken heart? He wouldn’t have thought it. “What happened? Your letter sounded so cheery.”
“You know me so well.” She blinked back tears. “Oh, Daddy, on the stage to Jefferson….”
The flood gates opened. May got up and sat next to her on the arm of the wingback, stroking her hair while Rebecca intermittently told the story and sobbed softly. Took more tears than words, but she finally told her tale.
“In the end, I had to put it out of my mind and think on things worthy of a good report. I’ve got a new life with my boys now.”
“You did the right thing, baby.” He wanted to say more, but how could he? Ford was a good man, but until he saw the error of his ways, Henry would not give his blessing. “Are you positive? About loving him?”
She nodded, wiped her cheeks, then pursed her lips like trying to hold back words that needed to be spoken.
“When he showed up at Mercy House…well…there’s something I left out. I was so shocked at him being there. And it just happened so suddenly, but I’ve known ever since that I do love him.”
His compassionate wife pressed her cheek to his oldest’s. “What happened, dear?”
“It was so spontaneous. I never even thought…. But as certain as I was that moment that I’d love him forever, I also knew I couldn’t marry him.”
“Thangs can change, darling.”
“I know that’s true, but… At first I thought it was just him not believing, but also realized…how could I face Wallace if I was to marry Ford so quickly after his home-going? And there’s the age difference.” She glanced up at May. “I’m older.”
“Oh, honey, that doesn’t make so much a difference when you’re both adults.”
“Look at me.” He chuckled. “I robbed the cradle.”
“And God could still save him, too. I never in a million years thought for one heartbeat that He existed, much less that He’d even want me. Maybe there’s a –”
“No, Mother. I’ve put it all behind me…left him in San Francisco, and my life’s here. In Texas. But sometimes. It just. Hurts so bad.”
“The pain dulls in time, but you skipped right over what he did at the orphanage.”
“Oh, did I?”
“Yes, ma’am, you did, and you’re still dodging your mama’s question.”
She looked at May then back and pressed hard into the chair. “I…uh…basically threw myself at him, kissed him…then I realized what I’d done and apologized.”
“Oh, is that all?” Henry did his best to keep concern from showing with a grin. He hated asking, but she’d be his baby girl until the day he died. “Just the once? Nothing else?”
“Yes, Daddy. I couldn’t tell you the number of times I was tempted, but yes. Just the one time, and he’s always been the perfect gentleman. Never taken any liberties at all.”
“I will put him on my prayer list. Who knows? The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
“Yes, He does.” His beloved’s lips spread into a little smile. “Now if you two will excuse me, I promised Michael a pirate story.” May stood, kissed the top of her head, then floated out, closing the door behind her.
“Speaking of promises, I owe the boy a pony and puppy. Know of any Indigo Blue pups available?”
A chuckle escaped. “I knew that.” Henry nodded. “While you and Bonnie were hugging everyone, Michael wanted to know about his pony and puppy.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“Told him wasn’t sure where they were, but that we’d not leave a stone unturned until we found them.”
“That satisfy him?”
“Not really, but I introduced him to Indigo. That seemed to make him happy.” Another chortle escaped. “He then told me that my dog would do.”
She grinned. “He’s not bashful. First time I saw him, he demanded I put his baby down. Told me his little brother was not for sale.”
Boy, dogs and horse banter aplenty. He loved having her home again where she belonged, loved listening to her stories. Seemed to him his oldest had fallen into true love for the first time in her life.
Despite his protest that they’d just gotten there, Bonnie and Jasper left the next morning for the Briggs’ homestead. Then while all the glad handers watched as the newlyweds left, it dawned on him that he had a whole new situation needing his attention.
Mercy, Lord.
Both Houston and Bart—so obvious it hurt—made eyes at his adopted granddaughter from California. One’s niece and the other’s cousin, but thank goodness, no blood relations. She’d grown into quite a lovely young lady.
Bonnie promised they’d be back for Sunday dinner and bring Hunter to see the boys.
Mm-hmmm. Mercy, Lord.
Francy loved it, but best be careful. Wouldn’t do to be the cause of the cousins coming to fisticuffs. She hurried up the steps, both young men right behind her.
Should she forget the notion that she would only consider older suitors? They were both so handsome. She really liked it when Bart got flustered, and Houston…he didn’t act anything like an uncle.
How weird would that be? Him marrying his older niece? Except he’d already pointed out that he and she were not blood kin.
&n
bsp; Best of all, come Sunday, she’d have a way to make Hunter Briggs jealous. Bonnie promised to put a bee in the man’s ear about her, and he’d be at the services. Ought to be an interesting day all around.
Then the Saturday after that was the newlywed’s big party. Bart said they’d move the dining table against the wall to give everyone room to dance. She adored the Virginia Reel.
With a mental twirl, she changed partners with each one of them wanting her more than the last.
That afternoon after chores, the boys found her in the kitchen, helping Miss Jewel peel potatoes.
“Want to play bases?”
She eyed Bart who grinned. “What’s that?”
“It’s like Rounders or Town Ball, but better. You hit the ball then run to base.”
She picked up another spud. “No, but you two go ahead.”
Houston stepped in front of his cousin. “How about charades after supper?”
“That would be fun. Who else can we get to play?”
Play she did, but always careful to walk the straight and narrow between the two young men, never giving either more attention than the other.
Sunday finally arrived, and as Bonnie promised, she brought her to a cluster of what had to be her new in-laws. Tickled her that the whole bunch favored so.
Her aunt stopped next to her husband then looked to the young man standing beside him. “Hunter.” She turned and extended her hand. “This is Mary Rachel’s adopted daughter we’ve been telling you about, Francine Risen.”
The man smiled then held out his hand. “Howdy, Francine. Good to see you again.”
She took his offering and looked him straight in his eyes. “Please. Call me Francy. Did we get to meet when I was here before? I’m sorry, there were so many new people.”
“We did.” He looked past her then back. “Looks like the preacher’s about to start.” He held out his arm, and she took it.
Henry hung back while everyone else found their seats. Be a tossup as to who was madder, Houston or Bart. Neither one liked the young lady sitting next to the Briggs boy. Blood feuds had been started over less.
Levi and Rose had seen it all. He looked skyward.
Thank You, Lord, that my right-hand man isn’t off somewhere. Don’t know if I could put all three of those young men to the ground if a fight broke out.
After the announcements and opening prayer, he relaxed some.
All three were God-fearing, and hopefully, they’d not do or say anything in the Lord’s house. He slipped in next to his wife. She grinned like she considered the whole thing humorous or maybe as if he was being a ninny, but she just didn’t understand.
Two hardheaded bulls would go at it until one was dead, and his boys were about as hardheaded as they came. Boys. They weren’t anymore. Bloodied veterans instead. Way more men than boys.
Shame Charley and Lacey hadn’t made it to town. Both Houston and Bart were liable to listen to their old sergeant better than anyone.
Folks stood. He took the cue. May leaned in just as the congregation began singing and put her mouth close to his ear. “Relax, Henry. It’ll all work itself out.”
That Sunday evening, Henry stayed in the parlor way longer than he wanted. Either his concerns were overblown, or the boys knew better than to start anything in his presence. Finally, he got the newlyweds in Bonnie’s old room, and Hunter tucked safely away in the bunkhouse.
Half-grown kids needing sitting like toddlers.
Ridiculous. He’d think they would….
He grinned in spite of himself. So far, they all turned out to be fine adults, individuals he was proud to call his own. Not a rotten one in the bunch. And that proved better than he could say for a lot of families in the county.
Had to give glory where it was due though. He looked toward the ceiling and blessed his Heavenly Father.
Before he could get the plans out for the new house he intended to build for May and incorporate the changes he’d thought of during supper, knuckles rapped on his door, putting that most pleasant of chores on the back burner.
His sweet wife grinned then voiced the entrance of more young’uns. “Come in, boys.”
Henry shot her a questioning look, but saying nothing, she took the extra straight back, leaving the wingbacks free.
“Pa.” Houston entered first and took the far seat.
“General.” Bart’s lips thinned into a smug expression, like his old rank carried more weight than Houston’s acknowledgement of his paterfamilias. Right smart salute, too, then he sat.
“What can I do you two for?” Like he needed to ask.
“Tell him, Pa. Me being the oldest, he should just bow out graceful-like and leave the way clear for me.”
“Not going to happen.” Bart glared at Houston.
“Don’t be so sure.”
“I’m fed up with you holding those few months over my head. Been doing it my whole life, too.” He scooted to the edge of his seat and put his hand on the desk. “It’d be downright sick for an uncle to marry his older niece. Tell him. Wouldn’t it? I mean isn’t that like incest?”
“I swan, sonny. You don’t know anything, do you?”
“Tell him, Uncle Henry. He needs to forget about Francy. I got plenty enough to worry about with that rotten Hunter Briggs sniffing around.”
Houston gave back the glare. “You are so lame, Bartholomew Baylor. Francine and I are not any kin. And me being her uncle will only be an amusing story to tell our children someday.”
“It’s just nasty.”
“Ain’t a lick of it even close to incest. Mercy! Right, Pa?”
“That’s enough.”
Both boys sat back in their chairs.
“You two, has there ever been even one young lady that either of you wanted to court that the other didn’t?” He eyed his son first then looked to Bart. “Well? Has there?”
“Uh, well, uh….”
“No, Pa, but now that you mention it…you see…Francy’s…she’s different.”
“How so, Son?”
“For one thing, she’s smart.”
“Yeah, smart enough to see straight through you.” Bart grinned like he’d just rode a tough bronc.
Henry silenced the younger man with a look then turned back to his oldest boy. “I’ll give you that. What else?” He held his hand out, palm facing Bart. “You’ll get a turn, so no interrupting.”
He let both boys extol the young lady’s virtues and obvious good looks then faced his wife. “Anything you want to say?”
“Not me. I’m happy as a June bug taking mental notes for my next novel.”
Houston’s ‘Mama’ trumped Bart’s ‘Auntie’ protest by a hair. Tickled Henry how her mind worked. He turned his attention back to the boys. “Has the young lady said or done anything to make you two think she’s even interested in either of you?”
Neither answered.
“Seems to me your next trip to Llano will give Francy an opportunity.”
“Pa, no. We can’t go. Not now.”
“Yes, you can and will. Both of you agreed and will keep to your word, but I will allow you to stay until after Bonnie’s big shindig next Saturday. A week from tomorrow, though, you fellows will take that load of lumber to Llano.”
“Sir, how exactly is us going off an opportunity for Francy?” Bart’s pained expression would have been comical if Henry wasn’t so troubled by the situation.
“We’ll see if she misses either of you, or….” He shrugged. “If she picks the Briggs boy or someone else…so be it. But her being here is not going to disrupt my plans or negate your commitment.”
Hopefully, he’d put enough steel in his voice to convince the pair he meant business.
Houston looked to his cousin then stood. “Thank you for letting us stay for the party.”
Bart jumped to his feet. “Yes, sir. Thank you! Uncle, suppose she can go with us?”
“No.”
Houston grinned and he slightly nodded approval at his s
idekick. “What if Rebecca goes? Then could Francy come along?”
“Fine. If your sister agrees to chaperone, Francy can go if she wants.” He waved them away. “Now get. It’s past my bedtime.”
Once the door closed, he stood then helped May to her feet. “What do you think?”
“Appears to me Miss Francine is playing her cards close to her vest. This evening seems she went out of her way to pay all three young men the same amount of attention and loved every minute of it.”
He nodded then led the way to their bed. The sheets felt too cool, but bless the Lord, he had his own personal heater.
May snuggled in tight. “Has Rebecca told you about Michael’s latest dream?”
“No.”
“Well, you already know he dreamed Marcus married his mama and that he had a baby sister, right?”
“Yes.”
“Last night he dreamed about her again. Told his mama the baby’s name is Isabell, but he calls her Izzy.”
“Lord, have mercy. Don’t think that’ll be going over too big with Rebecca.”
“Why?”
“That was Wallace’s mother’s name.”
Next afternoon, in the barn’s corral, Houston held the new pony’s reins, as Rebecca sat Michael onto the leather seat. The boy grabbed the saddle horn then leaned forward like his steed was about to bolt. “Let him go, Uncle.”
“You sure, little buddy?”
The boy nodded extra big. “Me ready.”
Houston looked to his sister who shrugged then backed toward the railing. “Alright then…easy does it.” He released the narrow leather straps then came up beside Rebecca and leaned against boards.
Nothing happened.
The horse didn’t move except to swish his tail. Good old boy, exactly as advertised. “Tell him to giddy-up. Shake the reins a little.”
The boy obeyed, and the horse walked toward the rail, turned easy, then headed around the corral. “Look at me! Look at me! Giddy up, Frisco!” He glanced over. “Hey, I’m riding.”
His mother smiled. “I see. You certainly are! Sit up straight and hold onto your reins.”
